


only your love can save me.

by projectfreelancer



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 21:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14434584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/projectfreelancer/pseuds/projectfreelancer
Summary: You’re not sure what has become of your allies: if they consider you a traitor, or if they wonder if you have a bigger plan. You curl your hand in John’s hair and laugh when you think of what your endgame plan is.





	only your love can save me.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for implied csa and not-shippy incest (if you've read my other FC5 fic you know how I picture the Seed brother dynamic). Also this is just so self-indulgent because I feel John just needs some good love, and he'll be fine... sorta.
> 
> Deputy isn't specifically a man, but my deputy was. 
> 
> This is dedicated to roe (who put the idea in my head), and inspired by Save Me by My Darkest Days.

You’re not sure what it is about him, but when you’re standing in the river with water up to your waist and hands at your throat, lungs raw and choking, you think,  _ I could save this man.  _ The thought comes fast and is gone as soon as he submerges you under the water again. You’re dizzy; you feel like if he lets go of you, you might faint. He’s about to do it again, but you both stop when you hear Joseph. He’s saying something to John, something soft and scolding, but you still cannot breathe, and John’s hands leave your pulse point on your neck to instead focus only on the man who had interrupted the scene. 

You see Joseph pushing his forehead against John, hear a threat leave Joseph’s mouth in that collected voice, and when Joseph pulls away, you know. You see it in John’s eyes as he looks after the man leaving: longing, sorrowful, guilty desire in his pupils. You think you’d laugh if your throat did not feel burnt, or you’d smile at John and say,  _ I know your sins, but you will never know mine. _ But his attention turns back at you, and all your pride falls from within you, and he looks vulnerable in a way you have never seen. “You will confess. Every sin you’ve ever committed. No matter how petty,” and he continues talking but all you can see is the water droplets lingering on his lips, “No matter how small. I will pull from you,” and you wonder if Joseph thought about kissing the water off of him the same way you think about it now, “And then we’ll see if you’re worthy of atonement,” and if you could, if you were braver, maybe you’d say,  _ I get why you’re doing this. For him. It won’t make him love you anymore. _ But John’s hands are back on your pulse point, and you stay silent.

—

He radios you often as if he has nothing better to do than watch over you like you’re his prey. It is as comforting as it is unnerving. He rants on about confessing, about knowing your true sins, about how The Father will be pleased with what he is doing. And you never reply because the game is all more hurtful for him knowing it’s one-sided, but if you were to, maybe you’d tell him,  _ I’ll stop if you stop, _ or,  _ You’re a sinner just like me,  _ or, worse yet,  _ Let me save you. Forget Joseph, and let me give you what you need. _

You never hit the button to reply, but you think about it often.

—

The next time you truly see him is with your hands tied behind you as you’re captured in one of his chairs. He is whistling from across the room, fiddling with an array of tools across his desk. “It was my parents,” he starts, and his voice is mesmerizing, you understand why he is the man to star in every propaganda video, “Who taught me the power of Yes. They took me into the kitchen one night, and I experienced pain after pain. And I looked at them and laughed. And all I could say… was yes.” He is turning something on, something that looks like a tattoo gun. Your eyes watch his arms that are littered with ink but stop when you see the word  _ lust _ carved into his skin. 

You know how it could go if you wanted it to go this way: you look him in the eyes. If your hands weren’t tied up maybe you’d brush against his cheek a little. And you’d say something like  _ my parents hit me too, _ or,  _ we share the same sins.  _ He has known Joseph’s twisted, snake-venom version of love, has experienced ecstacy in lust, but you know this man is not someone who has ever been truly loved for who he is. And you could kiss him, could show him you see beyond this charade. Knows he is obsessed with his leader in a way that can never truly be reciprocated. Knows why he believes what he believes. You could baptise him this time, say,  _ You are forgiven for your past. You can know love now. _

You say nothing because that is not the world you live in. And when he stares at you, when he says, “I am going to mark you until they all know I was the one who saved you. That you are mine,” all you do is swallow and let the ink mark your flesh.

—

You escape as you always do. And anytime you pass a mirror, you try not to look at what marks you now:  _ john  _ in lazy writing,  _ sinner  _ in harsher writing, and the symbol of Eden’s Gate like the one that marks Joseph’s back. Your fingers still draw against the ink despite you trying not to let them.

—

You let wrath get carved nasty into your skin, blood pooling on your stomach and slimy between John’s fingers. You watch as your ally has his chest’s skin cut off. You watch it all, watch John wash away your blood, and when the time comes, you say  _ Yes _ because John is looking at you the way Joseph looks at the sky when talking about God. And you know the gun is in the book, but you do not care. You let your allies get taken, and John’s smile is all worth it.

—

He takes you to his ranch, and this is what you had been hoping for. Would have said yes to anything if it meant you’d get this chance. And when he shoves you against the closed door, lips closing in on yours, you wonder if this is what landing in Hope’s County was always going to end in. And you kiss back like you are starving.

—

You stay there for what can only be weeks. John does not let you out of his sight often which you only think is fair. He does not tie you or keep you captive. You’re sure it’s because every night you’ll get on your knees and confess any sin you have ever committed. It becomes a blur whether you believe in the redemption or not, whether you think God is present when John’s lips ghost down your neck, when he whispers  _ you’re forgiven _ as he lays you on his bed. You’re not sure what has become of your allies or if they consider you a traitor or if they wonder if you have a bigger plan. You curl your hand in John’s hair and laugh when you think of what your endgame plan is.

—

It is easy for John to fall in love. The man who has never known adoration sinks easily into affection, relaxes at any kind phrase you give him, kisses you easily anytime you smile at him. It’s no wonder Joseph was so easily able to make him into what he is—or was. You’re not sure if you consider John an animalistic monster anymore. You hate him, you love him, you think about how your allies expect you to kill him, and then you say to him  _ i will save you _ when he is asleep. And you plan to. When the day comes, when the timing is just right, you will take this man and you and him will run away as far from Hope’s County and Joseph’s vicious reign as you can. You’d like to think it will be easy, Joseph would never harm his brother, but the more you learn of their childhood, the more you are aware you have to plan for it. But you are resolute in your decision. Kiss him to sleep every night, and never forgetting to say  _ i will save you.  _

You try to stifle the laughter that threatens to take hold of you when you realize you sound a bit like Joseph everytime you promise it to him. 


End file.
